


Negotiations

by mostlovedgirl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Basically It's a Hallmark Movie, Bridgette is a smart cookie, Bridgette is confidence and rainbows, Character Development, F/M, Falling In Love, Florist!Bridgette, Fluff, Félix doesn't know what hit him, Félix is emotionally dense, Incompetent Rival, Language of Flowers, Lawyer!FELIX, Mentions of Death, Mix of British and American English, Nice Guy Félix, Romance, Set in London, Workaholic Félix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 23:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlovedgirl/pseuds/mostlovedgirl
Summary: All Félix needs to do to get promoted to senior partner is keep the managing partner of his law firm happy, which means keeping their clients happy. Everything is going according to plan until a sassy, stubborn florist becomes a thorn in his side.
Relationships: Bridgette/Félix Graham de Vanily
Comments: 21
Kudos: 25





	1. The Florist

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me! Please enjoy this attempt at writing a slow burn romance that turned into an unapologetic Hallmark Movie.
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely betas ChocoluckChipz (Totally_lucky), TheNovelArtist, and zenmisery; and to Miss_Congeniality_of_MLB who is the best cheerleader in the entire universe. Most of all, thank you to my husband who supports me in all my crazy projects and who served as my sounding board and male perspective on this project. Love you all!
> 
> Updates on Tuesdays.
> 
> (My apologies in advance to all citizens of the UK and anyone familiar with how legal systems actually work.)

“Félix, join me for a moment,” Mr. Ellis called from his office door.

The young attorney locked his computer and answered the summons without comment. Mr. Ellis was the managing partner at his law firm. In other words, if Félix wanted to become a senior partner by the time he was thirty, keeping the old man happy ranked highly on his list of priorities. 

He stood before his superior’s massive desk in the spacious room, his hands tucked cooly in the pockets of his perfectly pressed trousers. His blond hair was neatly combed. The knot on his black tie was tight and centered. Not a button was out of place on his gray button-down shirt or black waistcoat. 

Mr. Ellis was starting to show his age. His hair was gray, and he was a bit heavier around the middle than was recommended by his healthcare provider, but he treated everyone with civility and had an impressive track record for settling in their clients’ favor. In short, the man had earned Félix’s respect.

“There’s a problem with the Orowood Tower project.” Mr. Ellis dropped the stack of papers he had been reviewing on his desk and proceeded to pour himself another cup of tea at the built-in wet bar in the corner. “One of the current owners on the block is refusing to sell. It’s stalling the whole project.” He carried his cup back to his desk and settled in his chair.

“I’ll take care of it,” Félix assured.

“Good. I don’t need to tell you the importance of the success of this project.”

Félix nodded. In this city, reputation was everything. 

* * *

This part of London was just as noisy and dirty as any other. Félix found number twenty-six. It was a small townhouse with a green door. The paint was fresh and the white blooms in the flower box under the window were thriving.

How quaint.

He ascended the few steps to the front door and knocked. A short, balding man with glasses answered.

“Mr. Brown?” Félix asked.

“Yes?” the other responded with a mix of curiosity and caution. 

“Félix Graham de Vanily of Ellis, Mayweather and Finch,” he introduced himself. “We represent the Melrose Corporation that would like to purchase your property on the corner of Cherry and Westlake. I understand you’ve had some reservations about accepting our client’s offer.”

Mr. Brown favored the green-eyed blond with a knowing smile that Félix found a little off-putting. This wasn’t usually how negotiations started.

“I understand, but I’m not the one you need to convince. Go talk to my tenant, Ms. Laurent. You’ll find her at her shop.”

Félix couldn’t stop an eyebrow from lifting a little in surprise. “As the owner, isn’t the sale of the property your decision to make?”

The man chuckled, causing unease to settle in Felix's gut. “Yes, but Bridgette has a way with words that makes a man think. If you’re able to convince her that it’s better to sell, I’ll sign it over.”

All Félix had to do to resolve this annoyance was convince one person? Very well. It shouldn't be a challenge.

* * *

The walk from Mr. Brown’s home to the corner where the building in question sat gave Félix’s curiosity time to percolate. The offer that had been made on the lot was more than fair. All of the other shop owners on the block had agreed to sell. Who was this woman who had so much influence over her landlord’s financial decisions?

He came to a halt in front of a small but tidy-looking storefront with baskets of flowers and vases of bouquets tied with bows in the window. The sign over the door read  _ Enchanted Roses _ in an elegant script. 

All this trouble over a flower shop? 

A small, brass bell hanging from the lintel rang merrily when Félix pushed the door open. The scent of flowers was nearly overpowering inside the well-lit room. Buckets full of blossoms in a variety of colors and species lined the walls. He recognized most of the plants. His mother had a fascination with the Victorian art of floriography. As a result, he had a better-than-passing knowledge of the language of flowers.

A trim woman of average height entered from a back room, her pale arms full of light pink roses, their buds tightly closed. Her long, jet black hair was held back in a high ponytail. Her makeup was light and accentuated her pale blue eyes. A black apron protected her lavender blouse and dark jeans from the water dripping off the cut ends of long stems she carried. Félix estimated her to be in her early twenties, a few years younger than himself.

“Hello,” she greeted Félix with a friendly smile as she deposited the flowers on the counter, her hands protected by gardening gloves. “What can I do for you?” 

Mr. Brown had used the French pronunciation of her name, though he had muddled it with his native English tongue. In contrast, Félix spoke the language fluently and had spent enough time in France to recognize the trace of an accent when she spoke.

“I’m looking for Bridgette Laurent.” 

“You found her. Full marks for saying my name correctly,” she complimented him, going to work on the few dozen stems with a thorn stripping tool.

“Ms. Laurent, I represent the Melrose Corporation.”

“Ah,” she hummed, not looking up from the rose she was holding.“You’re from Ellis, Mayweather and Finch.”

Félix covered his surprise. Most laypeople didn’t bother with remembering the name of the law firm. “Yes.” 

“Well, Mister—?” She paused in stripping the stem in her hands and looked at him expectantly.

“Graham de Vanily. Félix Graham de Vanily.”

Half of her mouth lifted in a little smirk. “Well, Mr. Bond.” 

Félix pursed his lips slightly at the light teasing. 

“I advised Mr. Brown not to sell, but I’m willing to let you try to persuade me otherwise.” She stripped another stem with a  _ snick _ as the tool slid off the cut end of the rose.

She listened quietly as Félix renewed their client’s offer.

“It is a reasonable sum of money,” she assented, “but what of the effect this project will have on the neighborhood?”

Félix listed every benefit he could concoct on the spot about creating additional jobs and attracting new businesses to the area. 

“I see,” she said when he finished. The florist was done stripping the flowers and had set them in a bucket of water on the counter. She pulled off her gloves and was giving him her full attention. “Anything else you would like to add?”

Félix felt like he was back in law school. He had a professor who liked to ask her students if they had anything else to contribute after they presented their arguments for or against whatever the topic of the day was. It had taught him to be thorough.

“No, Ma’am.” 

She hummed thoughtfully. A rack of satin ribbons in various colors and widths hung on the wall behind the counter. She selected a spool of white ribbon and set it on her cleared workspace before answering.

“Leave your card. I’ll give you my response on Thursday.”

Félix couldn’t get a read on her. She was a florist, not to mention young. Why did Mr. Brown put so much faith in her judgment?

Swallowing his irritation, Félix obediently opened his wallet and placed his business card on the counter. It was only two days. Mr. Ellis would be willing to wait that long, he was sure.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Félix was at his desk in the small, windowless office his senior associate position afforded him. He was reviewing a contract when he felt a change in the air.

He looked up just in time to see a woman breeze past his open door. Her black blazer and pencil skirt were a shade darker than the long hair falling down her back. Her black leather stilettos clicked against the polished stone floor.

Every head turned to follow the woman as she stopped at the desk in the open space between Mr. Ellis’ and Felix’s offices. A dove gray, quilted leather briefcase hung from her hand. It looked designer. Everything about her was polished. Félix idly wondered which high-end client or rival firm she represented before returning to his reading.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Ellis.”

Félix’s head snapped up. He recognized her voice. Abandoning the document on his monitor, he opened his door wider and paused in the doorway. 

Bridgette Laurent had come to give her reply in person, it seemed. 

The motherly, red-headed secretary, Sarah, showed her into Mr. Ellis’ office.

Richard Callahan, a junior associate at the firm, appeared from his cubicle and leaned on the chest-height front of Sarah’s desk. He was the same age as Félix, had been in the same year at Oxford, and was also hired by Ellis, Mayweather & Finch upon completion of his apprenticeship. The similarities ended there. 

“Who is that?” Callahan asked, his dull brown eyes staring at the young woman through the large windows looking into the managing partner’s office. 

Sarah’s reply was clipped as she resumed her seat. “Mr. Elllis’ ten o’clock appointment.” 

Félix stepped closer to her desk as well, watching Ms. Laurent’s and Mr. Ellis’ exchange. They couldn’t hear the conversation through the glass, but they watched as she handed Mr. Ellis a thumb drive and produced a folder from her briefcase while Mr. Ellis loaded the drive on his computer.

Callahan noticed his staring. “Know anything about this, Vanilla?” he asked, using the unimaginative nickname he had concocted when they met on their first day of law school. 

“You don’t know, Dick?” Félix jabbed back.

Callahan ran his tongue over his teeth. Félix didn’t like the way he was looking at their guest like she was something he wanted to eat.

“Not yet.” He rapped his knuckles twice on Sarah's desk before wandering back to his desk in the cube farm.

“I swear,” Sarah whispered, “if that man ever becomes a partner at this firm, I’ll quit.”

Félix hummed in acknowledgment, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He was too curious about what was going on in that office.

Mr. Ellis’s face morphed through several expressions. It started amused, then flickered with surprise before settling into an unreadable mask for a while. He mostly listened, only asking a few questions. Eventually, the mask broke, and Mr. Ellis smiled. He stood, shook Ms. Laurent’s hand, then politely saw her to his office door and opened it for her.

Félix stayed rooted in his spot. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone as she walked directly to the lifts. The electronic chime dinged, the highly polished metal doors slid soundlessly open, and she stepped into the carriage. At the last moment before the gap between the doors closed, her eyes flicked up and met Félix’s. Then she was gone, and he was left with his pale reflection staring back at him. 

“Félix,” Mr. Ellis called, bringing him back to his senses. 

Ellis tossed something small and silver to him. Félix had sharp reflexes. He snatched the object out of the air deftly. 

“I want you to take a look at that,” Mr. Ellis continued.

“What is it?” Félix asked, inspecting the thumb drive he’d watched Ms. Laurant give to Mr. Ellis earlier.

“A counter-proposal that that very impressive young lady drew up for the Tower project. Go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Let me know what you think. I want your report as soon as possible.”

Félix nodded. “I’ll get on it right away, sir.”

Back at his desk, Félix inserted the drive into a USB slot on his computer. It contained a single document. He opened it and began to read. Gradually, a furrow formed between his eyes, becoming deeper the further he read. 

After the third page, he navigated away from the proposal to open a web browser. Next to the search icon, he typed a name, and hit ‘ENTER’.


	2. The Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Félix learns more about the mysterious Bridgette.

Félix met Mr. Ellis at the lifts the next morning. 

“I trust you went home at some point last night,” his superior said by way of greeting.

Félix walked with him to his office. “I did. Do you have a minute, sir?”

Mr. Ellis hung up his coat and started heating water in his electric kettle. “Of course. Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“So what’s this about?”

“I finished reviewing Ms. Laurent’s proposal for the Orowood Tower project.”

“Already?” The surprise in the other’s tone was obvious. “And?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“The proposal is sound. It was very well executed and thoroughly researched. I support recommending it to Melrose. I think they will accept it on the strength of the tax benefits alone.”

“What edits did you make?”

“None.”

Mr. Ellis looked at him sharply. “None? No additions or spelling errors?”

“It was perfect as it was.”

The light on the kettle changed from orange to green as steam began to hiss from the spout. Mr. Ellis returned his attention to the task at hand, pouring the near-boiling water over the tea leaves encased in an infuser he had prepared while Félix was talking. Steam gently rose from the polished silver teapot as it steeped.

Mr. Ellis poured two cups of the earl grey blend and passed one to Félix. He took the other and motioned to the cognac leather sofa on the other side of the room, where he let the silence hang in the air as they sat. Citrusy notes of bergamot rose gently from the dark red-orange liquid in his cup as Félix waited. The other finally took a sip of his tea, giving him leave to do the same. Félix’s cup was nearly empty before his employer finally spoke.

“Have Sarah call Melrose and schedule a meeting for the two of us as soon as possible. You will handle the presentation.”

“Yes, sir.” Félix set his finished cup on the coffee table and got to his feet.

“And, Félix? Assuming this goes well, take Ms. Laurent out to lunch as a thank you.” He took his final sip and set his cup aside as well. “And see to it that she is paid for her work at the standard consultant rate.”

“You don’t want to come to lunch and thank her yourself?”

“I have every confidence that you can handle it without me. Make sure it’s someplace nice. _Otto’s_ , perhaps. The firm will cover the bill.”

“Yes, sir.”

Félix was at the door when Mr. Ellis added, “One more thing. Offer her a position here, even if it’s only on a consultant basis.”

That instruction gave him pause. “Sir?”

“I’m assuming she has the proper credentials,” Mr. Ellis continued. “She must to have produced quality work like that.”

“She does.” Félix had thought the same. It had taken some digging, but he had eventually found her certifications. 

“Good. Let’s see how this goes with Melrose before we get ahead of ourselves. This is all dependent on them agreeing to the new proposal, after all; but go ahead with making a lunch reservation. I have a good feeling about this.”

* * *

Two weeks later Félix was seated at the restaurant ten minutes prior to his scheduled lunch appointment with Ms. Laurent. He studied the menu and took note of a few vintages on the wine list. Mr. Ellis had been clear about not sparing any expenses. 

At precisely one o’clock, Ms. Laurent was shown to his table. Gentleman that he was, Félix got to his feet until she was seated. She was wearing her hair down again, the long locks spilling over the shoulders of her light plum, wrap-style dress.

Félix despised small talk, but Mr. Ellis had also made it clear that he expected him to be gracious company for this lunch. He forced himself to smile and resigned himself to an hour of idle chatter.

“Thank you for coming,” he broke the ice.

“Thank you for inviting me. I admit I wasn’t expecting you to call.” She opened her menu and started reading over it. Félix followed suit.

“We were all very impressed with the proposal you wrote. Mr. Ellis wanted to ensure that you were thanked properly.”

“Oh. I see. I’ll have to thank him.”

At her flattened tone, Félix glanced up from his menu. Her smile had dimmed. She wasn’t sitting quite as straight. Her whole demeanor was more subdued. He fought a frown as he studied her. What just happened? 

The waiter chose that moment to ask for their orders, giving Félix space to think of something to say. When he left, Felix turned his attention back to the lady before him. Whatever had dampened her spirits a moment ago seemed to have passed. 

“I reviewed your work before we presented it to the client,” he commented. “It was well executed.”

She sipped her glass of rosé, a sly smile tucked in the corner of her lips. “Not bad for a florist?”

“Not bad for a UCL law student who graduated top of her class.”

She set her glass on the white tablecloth. “You looked me up.”

“As I said, I was impressed.”

“I get the feeling that you don’t impress easily.”

“I don’t.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled with her soft smile. 

“So, knowing your credentials, why are you working in a flower shop?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going; and, admittedly, he was curious.

Her smile moved back to the corner of her mouth, like she had a secret. “I enjoyed the study of law, but I found the practice to be rather soul-crushing. So I gave it up and turned to making the world a better place with flowers.”

Félix was struggling to come up with a response to that. 

“You don’t understand my choice,” she guessed.

“No, I don’t,” he said honestly. “The time, the effort, the expense, your obvious aptitude for it—you shucked it all to arrange flowers?”

She laughed lightly. “It wasn’t a total loss. I get to keep my shop, don’t I? At least, I assume so. You never mentioned what your client thought of the new proposal.”

“They are moving forward with it. We signed the contracts this morning.”

“Really?” A spark of excitement shone in her eyes. “In the location I suggested?”

“Yes, I presented your plan exactly as you wrote it.”

“You presented it?”

“I was happy to do it. It was well-reasoned and served the needs of the client better than the original plan.”

She looked pleased. “I think it will help improve that neighborhood as well.” 

Their soup course arrived then. 

Two hours later, Félix brought the conversation around from international politics and mille-feuille to business. “By the way, this is yours.” He slid a plain, white envelope across the table to Ms. Laurent.

“What is it?” she asked as she picked it up.

“Your commission.”

Surprised, she peeked inside the envelope at the check. “This… is very generous.”

“It’s only fair. That is our standard rate for consultants.”

She carefully tucked the envelope in her handbag. “I’ll have to thank Mr. Ellis. He was under no obligation to compensate me.”

“True. He’s an honorable man and a fair employer. Speaking of which, I was also instructed to extend an offer to you. Mr. Ellis would like for you to come work for our firm.”

Her smile turned amused. “I’ll have to thank him for that as well.”

“But you aren’t going to accept it,” Félix guessed, “because you find working with flowers more fulfilling.”

“You’re as smart as you look.” She took a final sip from her glass before standing from the table. “Thank you for lunch. I hope we cross paths again.”

Félix set his napkin on his plate and got to his feet as well. “The pleasure was mine, Ms. Laurent.” To his surprise, he meant it. 

“You can call me Bridgette if you like.”

“We’re on a first-name basis now?”

“We have a mutual fondness for Chopin’s works. I think that qualifies.”

They walked out together into the rare sunny weather. Bridgette stopped and turned to him.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.” She went up on her toes and kissed the air next to Felix’s right cheek. She gasped and fell back on her heels, her face flushed red and with embarrassment. “I’m sorry! It’s an old habit.”

“It’s okay,” Félix assured her. He leaned down and kissed the air next to her left cheek, completing the farewell. “I visited Paris frequently as a child. I’m used to it.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Oh, good. I know it makes a lot of people here uncomfortable.”

“Think nothing of it.” To be fair, it did make Félix a little uncomfortable if the fluttery feeling in his stomach was anything to judge by. 

“Goodbye, Félix. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he questioned, but she was gone, lost in a sea of pedestrians.

* * *

Félix really should not have been surprised when Bridgette turned up at the office the following afternoon.

He was working at his desk when the scent of fresh flowers prompted him to look up. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and she was wearing a lavender blouse and gray cardigan with a floral print skirt that ended at her knees. Her black ballet flats didn’t draw attention the way her stilettos had.

“Ms. Laurent,” Sarah greeted her brightly.

“Bridgette, please. Hello, Sarah. I’m surprised you remember me.”

“How could I forget? It’s not every day that a young woman marches into Mr. Ellis’ office and redirects a multi-million-pound deal. You caused quite a stir.”

“Not in a bad way, I hope,” Bridgette laughed lightly.

Sarah’s broad smile nudged her glasses up her nose. “Not at all. So what brings you by today?”

“I came to drop these off for Mr. Ellis as a thank you.” She lifted the round vase in her hands so that the receptionist could admire the arrangement of purple bellflowers and yellow daisies anchored by a blue hydrangea. To Félix, they said, ‘I'm grateful for your kindness and understanding. I hope we can be friends.’

Mr. Ellis chose that moment to step out of his office. “Ms. Laurent, it’s lovely to see you again. Does this mean that you’ve reconsidered my offer?”

“I’m afraid not, but I did come to give you these.” She held out the vase. “Thank you for everything.”

Mr. Ellis accepted the floral arrangement with good grace. “You’re quite welcome, my dear. I don’t think I’ve ever received flowers as a gift before.”

“That’s a shame,” the young woman said. “They have a way of brightening a room, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course. Speaking of which, my wife’s birthday is in two days. Could I have you deliver a dozen red roses here at, say, half-past five?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Excellent. How was lunch with my protégé yesterday? I hope he behaved himself.”

Félix’s ears pricked up. Mr. Ellis hadn’t referred to him as his protégé before. This was a promising development. 

“But of course. Mr. Graham de Vanily was a perfect gentleman, and the meal was delicious. Thank you for that as well.”

“It was the least I could do. I’m afraid I must be going now.” Mr. Ellis looked over her head to the blond. “Félix, see the lady out.”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Bridgette protested. “I wouldn’t want to disrupt his work.” 

Félix was already at her side. “It’s no trouble.” He looked down at her. “Hello, again.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Mr. Ellis gave them a parting smile and carried his new flower arrangement into his office.

“Goodbye,” Bridgette called after him before smirking up at Félix. “You’re going to escort me all the way to the lifts?”

A movement in the corner of his eye caught Félix’s attention. Callahan was skulking nearby, watching them.

“It could be a treacherous fifty feet.” He placed his hand on Bridgette’s back protectively and led her down the hall.

“Will I see you on Friday?” she asked.

Félix was only half listening as his attention was divided between walking and surreptitiously keeping track of Callahan’s position. The other hadn’t moved. Good.

“Friday?” 

“When I deliver Mr. Ellis’ flowers for his wife.”

“Yes. I’ll be here.”

She pressed the call button for the lift. The door immediately chimed and slid open for her. Bridgette stepped inside and pushed the button for the ground floor before shooting him a sunny smile. _“Au revoir.”_

 _“Au revoir,”_ Félix replied automatically.

Callahan was still standing there when Félix started making his way back to his office. “What? No kiss?” the unremarkable brown-haired man taunted as he passed.

Félix stopped, not bothering to spare him a glance. “Jealous?”

“Of you?” Callahan snorted. “Hardly. I’ll admit you’re not half bad as a lawyer, but we both know I’ve always been better with the ladies.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dick,” he tossed back, continuing to his office. 

It was true, Félix hadn’t been in any relationships in all the time Callahan had known him, but that was by choice. His education and career had always been more important. Besides, he had yet to meet a woman worth his notice in that way.

An uneasy feeling settled over Félix at the thought. It was the same warning bell that went off in the back of his mind when his instincts told him someone was lying. He shoved the feeling aside, determining it to be irrelevant. Bright eyes and a pretty smile weren’t worth jeopardizing his career plan. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments much appreciated.
> 
> If you are a UK reader, and I used a term that has left you scratching your head, please let me know in the comments or DM me on tumblr [@mostlovedgirl-writes](https://mostlovedgirl-writes.tumblr.com/). Thanks!


End file.
